Kuta

It was precisely midnight in Kuta. I was sitting on the beach with sandy feet and a slight breeze of wind passing through my jacket. Looking far, far away, into the pitch black ocean; suddenly you popped up in my mind. You, and the fact that I must let you go.

I haven’t cried in a couple weeks. I cut my bangs and dyed it red. Tried to write my feelings down, break things, walk, cook; I’ve tried everything. And nothing, nothing would patch my wounds up. Nothing seems to work. It hurts so bad, yet I couldn’t cry.

Your words kept coming back to me. Haunting me, keeping me awake most nights. You ripped my heart and walked away like nothing happened; left me wondering what I did wrong. What hurts the most is that even with my heart shattered, scattered everywhere, I still miss you.

I wanna listen to you ranting about how bad your day was, or how your friend annoys you. I wanna argue about small things that don’t even matter and laugh at our silly arguments. If you were still mine, I would buy all the pie susu in the world for you. I would tell you that I had wildberry-cheesecake gelato today, and how I wish I was sharing it with you. But I can’t do any of those things. I don’t even have the right to say hi.

The light that’s flashing from my friend’s phone brought my consciousness back to Kuta’s darkness. I felt tears sliding down my cheeks. I wiped it off and instantly felt relieved. I cried. Maybe I will be okay.

Shafa (October 22, 2022)